


It Takes Two

by tryslora



Series: And Omega Makes Family [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Background Relationships, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 20:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5799166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months into his second pregnancy, Jackson’s trying to pretend that he’s got it all under control: his health, his college coursework, and his social life. Truth is, he doesn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Two

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for prompt #156 - Pregnant at fullmoon_ficlet. It is mostly hot off the fingertips and only lightly edited. It was a joy to write in this series again.

Jackson is thankful that Damon has an apartment off-campus this year, and that his frat brother roommates never seem to be around except on the weekend nights when they throw all-nighter beer bashes. It means that during the week, he can study there in comfort and peace. He can take off the heavy hoodie that he wears around campus all day. He can roll down his sweats beneath his belly that already seems larger than the last time around, and he can sit comfortably at the kitchen table while they work. He can text with Derek to keep him posted on timing, but he can finish studying for fall finals without worrying about Toby interrupting.

It’s not that his family’s a distraction. It’s that Jackson would always rather pay attention to Toby or Derek rather than study. It’s easier to ignore Damon.

“Danny’s flight gets in next Thursday.” Damon sets his phone down, nudges it almost out of reach. “He wants to know if you or Derek can pick him up. His mom’s not going to be back from Hawaii yet.”

“I forgot she’d gone.” Now that Danny’s youngest sister is off at college, his mom had started traveling and had been away for a month with relatives. Jackson was watching the house for the first week she was gone, but another friend of the family took over after that. “Tell him it’ll be Derek. Or you could stay and pick him up yourself.”

“I would, but my mother is expecting me home on Wednesday to get the presents wrapped for my siblings, and there’s this little problem of she thinks I should invite my best friends for the holidays and hasn’t figured out yet that I’m actually _dating_ Danny,” Damon grumbles.

“You could come out and tell her.”

“Or I could not.” Damon scowls. “She’s not ready to hear it. And I’m not ready to deal with my father. None of us want to know what he’d say about it.”

“If you hate going back there, why don’t you talk to Danny about crashing at his place?” It only seems logical to Jackson. It’s been almost a year since his two friends started dating, and it’s obvious Damon hates going home every time he goes, even though he loves his sisters.

“Ticket’s non-refundable, and my parents would kill me for missing Christmas.” Damon shrugs. “You pick up Danny at the airport, I’ll have him pick me up when I come back for the new year and spend a couple of weeks then. And we will stay out of your hair so you can enjoy your break with Derek.”

Jackson snorts. “Enjoy break. While I am huge as a house and Derek will probably be writing twice as much because with Danny actually _here_ you know they’ll be pushing harder on the new app.”

“I heard pregnant people are horny as fuck.” Damon smirks. “I’m pretty sure your husband isn’t going to stay away so much that you can’t get that taken care of.”

“We’re not talking about my sex life.” Jackson’s phone buzzes, and speaking of Derek, there he is. “I’ve got to go. Derek’s home with Toby, and I’m supposed to pick up food on the way.”

“Looking like that?” Damon’s expression is dubious as Jackson stands up, pregnant belly leading the way. “Dude, you can’t hide that.”

Jackson grumbles, grabs for his hoodie and yanks it on, letting it fall loose over his body. He knows he’s pregnant, but he mostly just looks fat, as long as no one notices how thin his facial features are. This particular pregnancy has been wearing on him, and he hasn’t managed to eat enough to keep Deaton happy with his weight gain. “Yeah, I can. I’ve been hiding it until now, and after this I can just hang out at home until I give birth in March.” Or February. He hasn’t told anyone yet about Deaton’s concerns for the size of the child and Jackson’s lack of weight gain. And right now he’s glad Damon is human and can’t catch his scent.

“One more study session tomorrow night,” Jackson says. “And then you’re going to party all weekend and I’m going to sleep and I’ll see you at the exam Monday morning.”

“Don’t forget to submit your paper by midnight Saturday.”

Jackson pulls his phone out, checks the reminder he has set and adds another one to text Damon to remind _him_ to submit his own paper before he gets too smashed to remember. Last big bash of the semester, and he figures Damon’s going to enjoy it. “One last bit of responsibility, then it’s all over until spring semester.”

Damon claps him on the shoulder, and Jackson’s relieved that their friendship has made it this far. He’d had his doubts after he told Danny and Damon that he was pregnant a second time, but Damon’s come through this semester, and they’ve already planned for Damon to attend the two classes that Jackson is taking but can’t attend personally, and to bring him notes.

He’s a good friend, and Derek’s slowly coming around to having him in their lives. At least as long as Damon’s dating Danny, Jackson thinks it’ll work out.

#

When Jackson walks in the house, Toby is in the high chair, calling out for spaghetti, and Derek’s at the door, his phone in hand. He holds it up for Jackson to see. “Why is Deaton calling me?”

“I don’t know, why is Deaton calling you? Do we have another problem?” Beacon Hills has been quiet, but Jackson knows that quiet doesn’t always mean safe and that things do crop up.

“No, he left me a message saying that I should be talking to you.” There’s a firm note in Derek’s voice, and Jackson winces. “Something about whether you’ve discussed your last appointment with me. Is there something I should know?”

“I’m fine.” Jackson tries to keep his heart rate steady and knows he’s failed by the way Derek’s breath catches and his nostrils flare. Derek crowds in close while Toby yells _DA!_ in the background; Derek’s nose presses into the crook of Jackson’s shoulder, his tongue licks at his skin.

“You’re anxious.”

That’s one way to put it. “Because you’re going to get protective, and I still have a final and a paper to get through before this semester’s over,” Jackson says dryly. “So let’s just start out with _I’m fine_ and Deaton’s worrying for no reason. I haven’t gained enough weight to keep him happy, that’s all.”

“You’re almost six months pregnant. You should be gaining weight.” Derek unzips Jackson’s hoodie, pushes it off his shoulders, tugs his shirt away from his throat. He noses in close, inhales and licks at the skin, and _that_ isn’t an appropriate thought for dinner as Jackson whines softly in response. Derek stops and pulls back, cradles Jackson’s face and tilts his head, looking at him from under furrowed brows.

“You’d know if I’m too skinny,” Jackson says curtly. “We sleep mostly naked. We _fuck_.”

“Oh, we’re back to fucking?” One eyebrow goes up and Jackson backs down under the force of Derek’s glare.

“Fine, we have sex. Often. Usually with you having a conversation with our unborn child.” Jackson winces, presses against the _something_ that’s pushing against his skin from the inside. “Who is somersaulting at this very moment and probably hungry. I should eat.”

Derek lets it drop and Jackson’s thankful. He is _hungry_ , and it’s not like he doesn’t eat. He sits down at the table, lets Derek put half a pound of pasta into a bowl for him, buried under pasta sauce and a mound of meatballs and sausage. And Jackson eats all of it while trying to help Toby manage his spoon for something other than banging it against his tray. He’s pretty sure Toby’s the one who’s not eating with more of the spaghetti sauce spread on his skin and the tray than went in his mouth. But Jackson eats. He eats like a starving man, and he goes into the kitchen to forage for something to satisfy his sweet tooth for dessert. Eating isn’t the problem and it hasn’t been the problem, which is what he told Deaton. He’s just not sure where it’s going, because he’s not gaining weight.

#

It takes time to get Toby bathed, the bathwater drained multiple times to wash away the worst of the spaghetti and sauce. Derek and Jackson work together to towel him off, get him into his PJs and teeth brushed. Toby wants three stories, so Jackson settles in on the bed with him, lets Toby lie down next to him with his head on Jackson’s belly. While Jackson reads, Toby solemnly repeats each word, patting Jackson’s stomach in time with the phrases as he gives these stories to his unborn sibling.

By the end of the third story, Toby’s voice is low and lazy, each word drawn out as he nears sleep. Jackson carefully unwinds himself from his son and tucks him in, kissing the soft skin of his forehead before whispering that he loves him and turning out the light.

He finds Derek in their room, already half-undressed even though it’s still early.

“Do you need to study?” Derek reaches for the hem of Jackson’s shirt, tugging it up to the top of his belly so that Derek can smooth his hands over Jackson’s skin.

“Do you have something in mind?” The answer is probably yes, he really does need to study. It’s been a terrible semester, and Jackson doesn’t have much left, but at the same time, maybe he can take a short break until morning.

Derek just strips the shirt over Jackson’s head, draws him in close to cradle the nape of his neck with one hand while kissing him, his other hand sliding over the swell of his belly. Jackson sinks into the kiss, lets the stress of school drop away in the taste of his husband and mate, luxuriating in the way Derek’s fingers skate over his skin.

Until they stop.

“I can feel your spine.” Derek pulls back, leans against Jackson, forehead to forehead. “I can feel your hip bones. Your cheekbones stand out. I don’t know how I didn’t notice. Is it getting worse?”

Jackson shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t have abs. I lead with my stomach when I walk. I don’t really notice it. I’m not soft this time, but that’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Not if it worries Deaton.” Derek cradles Jackson’s face with both hands, kisses him slowly. “Even for werewolves, this is unusual. I can’t just take you to the hospital, have them save your life. I need you here, with me, and if there’s something we need to do differently, we’re going to do it. I don’t want to risk losing you.”

Jackson’s breath catches in his throat, and he shivers because he didn’t think of it like that. It was just another stress, just another thing that he couldn’t quite manage to deal with. He lets Derek gather him in, enjoys the way Derek touches him as he closes his eyes, loses himself in the scent of mate.

And when Derek draws him down to the bed, Jackson goes willingly. Even if Derek treats him like he’s made of glass, it’s still good. Because they are always good like this, together.

#

Jackson sits on the edge of the table, metal cold enough that he can feel it through the thin fabric of his boxers. His stomach weighs heavily and he rubs at it idly, pressing at the motion beneath his skin. He can feel the heat of Derek behind him, listens to the footfalls as Derek paces, waiting for Deaton to finish another appointment.

“I feel like a dog,” Jackson mutters. “Do _not_ let Stiles know that Deaton’s got me in here more than necessarily. I don’t need the dog jokes.”

“We don’t talk about you when we’re having meetings for work,” Derek counters. “It’s all story, code, and where we’re taking the app next. The two of you could try getting along.”

They _should_ get along. Stiles is snarky, and an asshole, and he’s working with both Derek and Danny. And he’s dating Lydia on and off at random times, which Jackson can’t tell how he feels about it. Mostly sorry for Stiles, since Lydia’s not easy to put up with at her best, but they somehow seem to make it work. He figures Stiles gives as much shit as he gets.

It’s just hard letting go of the old antagonism sometimes. Jackson likes constants in his life, especially when everything else has changed so much.

The door opens and clicks closed with a low thunk. Jackson looks over, lips pressed thinly as he realizes that Deaton has company. “Great. You mention Stiles and it’s like a summoning spell.”

“Stiles has been studying certain subjects along with his work with me, and he could bring new information to bear here,” Deaton says mildly as Stiles leans against a countertop, arms crossed.

“Or I could just observe and say nothing. Don’t mind me, Jackson.” Stiles raises one hand, rolls his eyes when Jackson bares his teeth and growls at him.

“Lie back.” Deaton presses one hand to Jackson’s shoulder, and Derek is there behind him with pillows to support Jackson as he leans back. Deaton brings over the ultrasound machine and spreads the goop across Jackson’s belly. “The child is active, I see. Would you like me to try to determine whether your child is male or female?”

“Deaton.” Stiles’s voice is low. “Are you recording this?”

Deaton glances back at Stiles, then pauses to type something in, touch a switch on the machine in the rack.

It looks to Jackson like his baby is swimming laps. There’s constant movement on the screen, despite Deaton holding the wand still. He can smell apprehension in the air, and the fact that it’s coming from Derek makes his own heart beat faster. He grips Derek’s hand, squeezes tightly. “How could you even tell what it is? It doesn’t seem to stop moving.”

“Yeah, I think that’s your problem,” Stiles says. “I think Deaton’s been missing something. Just… lie back and let him look around a bit. I wouldn’t worry about figuring out a gender right now.”

“I still think it’s going to be a girl,” Jackson mutters, and Stiles snorts.

After a few minutes, Deaton finishes failing to take measurements, but assures Jackson that the child is healthy in every way. Stiles nudges Deaton out of the way and brings up the video, pressing pause about thirty seconds into the recording. “There,” he says.

Deaton’s eyebrows rise. “I see. Yes, I do agree with your thought, Stiles.”

“What?” Jackson doesn’t like not knowing what they’re talking about, and frankly it looks like blobs and more blobs on the screen.

“There’s a reason you’re more belly than body,” Stiles says dryly. “You’re eating for two, and you need to be eating for three. The problem is, you’ve got champion swimmers there, and they don’t slow down long enough and it honestly looks like it’s just one kid, until you get it paused just right. And there, and there.” Stiles taps the screen in two places, and Jackson leans in, focusing intently until it resolves.

Two heads. Two faces.

Holy shit.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to have a litter of pups.” It sounds like Derek’s trying not to laugh when he says it, and Jackson doesn’t know whether to hit him or start crying. Both sound like good options right now.

“No dog jokes, Stilinski,” Jackson orders through gritted teeth. “And get out. Both of you, just _get out_.”

“We will prepare some nutritional supplements and a suggested diet, Jackson,” Deaton says. “You may believe you’re eating enough, but I’m afraid you will need to increase your caloric intake dramatically in order to best care for your two highly active children along with your own body.”

Fine. Whatever. Jackson points at the door, and Stiles and Deaton go, and as soon as the door closes, Jackson lies back, limp, and feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“I have to finish my paper,” he mutters. “And I have a final. And I’m having fucking _twins_. I am _huge_ and I’m going to be _bigger_ and there will be more stretch marks and this sucks, Derek. Why did I let you do this to me again?”

“Because you love me.” Derek leans in, brushes a kiss against the tip of his nose, then captures his mouth and lingers over the touch. “And because I love you.”

“It couldn’t be simple. It just couldn’t be simple. We’re going to have our hands full, and everyone in diapers, and how do you feed two babies at once? Am I going to be able to go back to school? Maybe I should just quit for now, until they’re older.”

“Jackson.” Derek touches his mouth, stops him from speaking. “It’s going to be fine. I’m with you, you have friends who support you. It’s all going to be okay, and we’ll have a family, and from now on, we use protection when you go into heat.”

“Someone else can take a turn having pack babies,” Jackson grumbles. “I’m done with it.”

“At least this time you didn’t cover all the mirrors,” Derek says dryly.

“Just for that, you are taking me home, rubbing my feet, and then worshipping me until I get off,” Jackson mutters. “Twice. Because I’m pretty sure that in another few weeks I’m going to have to say goodbye to my dick until February.” Because he’s also pretty sure that if it’s twins, he’s having these babies early.

“We can do that.” Derek hands Jackson his clothes, takes his time helping him get dressed and if his hands stray while doing it, Jackson isn’t going to argue. “I’ll worship you until you tell me you have to get back to work. Sound good?”

It sounds like it’s as good as it’s going to get. Because Jackson is really never going to like being pregnant. But he loves Derek, and he loves their son, and he knows he’s going to love these two wee ones when they’re born as well. It sucks, but it’s worth it in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
